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by The Official Canadian Teabag
Summary: You can't stop being afraid just by pretending everything that scares you isn't there. Eventual Spamano/RomaSpa. Zombie Apocalypse AU. Based loosely upon The Walking Dead video game and The Last Of Us.
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

'_Fear is in the mind_'. That's what Antonio's grandmother used to tell him when he was younger, since he used to be so terrified to jump off the fifty-meter diving board at the public pool. '_The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. Do what you fear and fear disappears.'_

There was no _Abuela_ to tell Antonio that now, not that he ever believed her, anyways. There was no more _anyone_. No Mami, no Papi, no _hermano,_ no more Gordo the puppy.

For the first time in twenty-one years...Antonio was utterly, and completely...alone.

He grasped his baseball bat to his chest, his breath coming in short, restricted gulps of air as he leaned back against the wall of a dark alleyway. Clickers clicked, runners ran, walkers walked. The whimpers and moans of nearly-dead citizens of Los Angeles decaying deeper inside the alleyway made the young Spaniard's gut twist painfully.

This was it. Antonio was done. He would go mental if he lived another minute in this hell-hole. Defeated, he dropped the wooden baseball bat.

It clanged loudly along the pavement, which instantly drew the nearby zombies' attention.

"It doesn't have to end like this," He whispered, the sound of hissing clickers filling the air. He could hear them stagger over in his direction, getting closer and closer. Soon they would find him, and they would feed off of his warm, young organs.

The reply to his whisper was never said out loud, yet Antonio heard it.

'Oh, but it did.'

* * *

_A/N:_ I'mma back. With a full-length story, hooray! Should I continue? C: Let me know what you think of it so far! :*


	2. Chapter I

_Chapter I_

"_Abuelita,_ what does this word mean?"

Big, round, emerald eyes glanced up at the elderly woman, patiently waiting for an answer.

"Which word, _nieto_?"

"This one, with an 'H'." A chubby finger pointed to the word on the page.

"'Havoc', Antonio?"

"Sì, sì! What does that mean?"

"Er...well...it means something very bad that happened to a place."

"Uh...like a...tornado?"

"Exactly like a tornado."

"Oh, okay. Then what does this word mean?" Another word was pointed to on the page.

The elderly woman blinked, a bit startled at the word her grandson was asking her about. "A...zombie?"

"Yeah! What's a zombie, Grandma?"

"Good heavens, Antonio, where did you get this book from?"

"From _la biblioteca, _Grandma."

"You shouldn't be reading a book like this, _mi hijito._Too scary."

"Aw, it's not that scary, _Abuela!_ I'm a big boy! I'm not scared!"

But Grandma Carriedo shook her head. "No, Antonio. Trust me. You'll end up having nightmares if you keep reading that book."

Antonio pouted, disappointment filling his green eyes, but he closed the book. "Okay, _Abuela_..."

His grandmother patted his soft head of brown curls. "It's for your own good, _niño_."

* * *

Later that night, when the Fernandez-Carriedo's had all fallen asleep, the youngest member of the family slipped into the living room, grabbed his book off it's shelf, and tiptoed back into his room.

Turning on his flashlight underneath his thick bedsheets, Antonio carefully read the passage where he left off from.

'_This is the way the world ends; not with a bang or a whimper, but with zombies breaking down the back door.'_

The little boy's eyes widened, and shivers ran down his tiny spine.

He still didn't know what a zombie was, but he felt positively sure it was something very, very bad.

His fingers felt numb and cold as he slowly turned the page.

The graphic image of a disgusting, decaying, but somehow still alive person gnawing into the throat of a normal human being shocked Antonio's small body.

With quick, frightened intakes of air, the little boy quickly read the final sentence of the chapter.

'_It had occurred to him that if the undead don't realize that they are dead, he might easily be one of them himself.'_

Terrified, Antonio slammed the book shut, hid it under his bed, and lay on his back, pointing the flashlight up towards the ceiling. The poor little boy was so scared, little whimpers escaped his lips and tears were already staining his cheeks.

_Abuela_ was right. She was always right. He was not going to be going to sleep tonight.

Ten minutes passed of just continuous staring up at the ceiling. Then fifteen. Then twenty. Then forty-five.

An hour and a half passed of just no movement, frozen, silent fear. Jade eyes were wide, and Antonio's face had noticeably lost all its colour, even with his permanent bronze tan.

Antonio was exhausted, but he would gladly give up sleep than having the knowledge that a zombie could crawl into his bedroom and chew his leg off.

The little boy shut his eyes tightly, and he repeated a mantra over and over and over again.

"It's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real...it's just a book, it's not real..."

Finally, about three and a half hours later, Antonio fell asleep. Nightmares welcomed him as sleepiness overtook his body. For the rest of the week, Antonio whimpered and sobbed alone in his bed, the nightmares of zombies eating him and his family alive torturing and polluting his young mind.

* * *

Antonio had known all about zombies when he was a kid. He wanted to un-see that photo in the book, but it was too late. He grew up with that fear lodged in the back of his brain, and he knew he'd be living with that same fear for the rest of his life.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter coming up pretty soon! Thanks for the feedback and all 'u'


	3. Chapter II

Antonio whimpered, his fingertips digging into the creases in the wall behind him. He didn't want to watch the clicker sink its teeth into his throat, so he shut his eyes tightly. The awful hissing was getting louder with every panicked heartbeat echoing in the young man's ears, and he could feel his esophagus closing up painfully, restricting him from breathing regularly. Not that he was in the first place.

His chest moved up and down with every gasp of air he could manage, and he felt so helpless and defeated and _everything _that he wished the clicker would hurry up and find him so his misery would end.

The clicker made another one of those disgusting, clicking noises, this time shriller and louder than it was doing before, and Antonio knew that the clicker knew he was there. He took another choking gasp of an inhale, and the clicker lunged.

Its fingers wrapped around his neck, and Antonio took that moment to notice how human-esque the clicker's hands felt, and that this horrible, awful creature was once a normal human being. And of course, only being human, the young Spaniard let out a shriek so loud, all the zombies in the entire city probably heard.

Sharp, elongated teeth were revealed, and the clicker was so close Antonio could smell its disgusting, putrid breath against his face. Within the next second, they were going to plunge into his soft skin, and gnaw his throat apart before ripping apart his stomach to feed on his organs.

But...but nothing...happened.

The clicker made a strange, gurgling sound, almost like a scream of its own, before it died down. Its hands loosened, before completely falling away. A thud against the ground, and then...

"Come on, man. We gotta get."

A strong arm anchored itself around Antonio's waist, forcefully tugging him from the wall and out of the alleyway. He still had his eyes closed, but his feet and legs seemed to move on their own, automatically running with the person - er, well, the _thing_ - pulling him. The person (Antonio assumed it was a person) stopped for absolutely nothing, as if determined to get themselves and Antonio fucking _outta there._ The Spaniard could hear the snarls and hisses of runners and clickers just meters away from him, and just the thought that they were so close made his heart race even faster with panic.

They were running, running so fast and so hard Antonio just felt like collapsing, but eventually the moans and screeches of the zombies died down. The person slowed down to a walking pace, making Antonio slow down as well.

And then...there was silence.

A voice broke the silence, making Antonio flinch.

"Hey, you all right?"

This person had an accent...Western European-ish, maybe, or Mediterranean. Greek? Turkish? A foreign clicker. Hah. The Spaniard almost laughed.

A scoff came from his saviour, seeing how Antonio hadn't replied to its question.

"Stop being a pussy and open your eyes. I'm no fucking clicker, if that's what you're thinking."

Finally, Antonio lifted his eyelids, albeit quite slowly, revealing his big, frightened emerald orbs. His gaze nervously shifted over to the person beside him, and what he saw almost made his jaw drop.

A young-looking man, thin and delicate-looking, but from glancing at his arms was anything but the latter. His short dark hair perfectly framed his tanned face, the same way dark lashes framed his gorgeous, intense hazel eyes. He looked serious and mature and sexy and dangerous all at the same time, and the youth in his cheeks with the stompy, military boots created such a perfect balance in this guy's physique. Whoa.

By the time Antonio's eyes moved back up to the stranger's face, it was only then that he noticed the young guy had narrowed his eyes dangerously at him.

"The fuck you starin' at?" He demanded, his voice holding a seething, defensive tone in it. The bitterness startled Antonio a little bit, and he shrank back a bit, feeling quite a bit intimidated by this guy.

"N-Nothing," He murmured. "I-I wasn't staring at anything..."

The attractive stranger huffed. "So you do talk. Huh. Whatever, you gonna give me a name or what?"

Antonio dumbly blinked in reply, his vocal cords somehow unable to form words. "Uh...ah...I, ah...um..."

A thin, dark eyebrow raised, followed by a saucy pout, but the Spaniard could see a hint of amusement around the edges of the stranger's lips. "Are you always this articulate?"

Bronze cheeks flushed rosy red in embarrassment, and Antonio cleared his throat before trying again. "I, uh...m-my name's Antonio."

"Antonio," The stranger echoed, letting the name roll on his tongue. "Mmm, okay. What were you doing out there all by yourself? Where are the, uh...the people you're with? I don't anyone thinking I'm doing anything but trying to help you."

The stranger's voice softened a lot, which made the young Spaniard relax visibly. "I...I'm not from a group."

"Not from a group?"

"N-No...I'm...all by myself."

The good-looking stranger scowled. "Bullshit. Everyone's from a group. There's no way in hell a small thing like you is by yourself. Don't lie to strangers, honey. Especially ones that might've saved your fucking life."

_I didn't want to be saved,_ Antonio thought bitterly. "I'm not lying. I'm all alone."

"Buuuullshit."

Jade eyes narrowed. "It's _not_ bullshit. I swear to God I'm by myself. There is _no one_ else." Just saying those words made the Spaniard's heart clench sadly.

The stranger didn't say anything for the longest time. Antonio moved his gaze down to his feet, finding an interest in the hole in his tennis shoe.

After a few moments, the stranger let out a long-suffering sigh. "Alright. I believe you."

"Thank you."

The stranger glanced at the young Spaniard. His arm was still tight around Antonio's waist. Just feeling this stranger's gorgeous eyes on him made his cheeks burn even hotter.

"I'm Lovino," The attractive young man said softly. "I just remembered I hadn't told you my name."

Antonio bit his lip. "Hi, Lovino."

"Hi."

"I, um...I want to thank you for...saving my life."

"Ah, it was nothing."

"No, really. I don't think I would've had the guts to do that. You were really brave."

Antonio could've sworn he saw a hint of red staining Lovino's flawless cheeks, but the latter didn't show he was embarrassed, if he was. "Well, I...I guess it's just from habit, you know? I always tend to feel like Superman when someone's in trouble, especially since I'm pretty good with handling shivs."

For the first time in a long time, a small smile graced the Spaniard's lips. "I could tell. You look pretty macho indeed."

To his surprise, Lovino chuckled. "Ah, shaddup. Er, listen, uh...I want to bring you back to my group. We've got lots of supplies, food and clean water. I'd feel horrible if someone as good-looking as you was starving out there, shivering cold with no shelter."

Immense relief washed over Antonio. The emotion was so intense and spontaneous it brought tears to his eyes.

"Thank you," He whispered, blinking hard so he wouldn't cry in front of this gorgeous stranger. "Thank you."

Lovino turned to look at the young Spaniard, and a small, shy smile grew on his lips. He might've even tightened his hold around Antonio.

The rest of the walk continued in comfortable silence. For the first time in a long while, Antonio felt true, sincere peace.

* * *

_A/N:_Ah, hooray for longer chappy! I know the beginning was really choppy and all, but these next chapters will be a hella lot longer, i promise. OuO R&R!


	4. Chapter III

_Chapter III_

The walk was long. Insanely long. The sun had long gone behind the dark clouds and the stars were peaking out by the time Lovino informed Antonio that they had arrived. The young Spaniard's legs were killing him…he'd been walking for a long time even before this poof beside him saved him.

He was still a little pissed off about being saved, now that he thought about it. When he thought all would be over, his pain would succumb, his body would be put to rest, and his spirit would rejoin his family up there past the golden gate. But _no._ This fucking guy decided to spare him and force him to continue living this awful, depressing new life. Well, fucking _fuck _that. If a man wants to die, then fucking let him die, for God's fucking sake.

But then Antonio thought about it more. Well…wouldn't asking for death _technically_ be considered committing suicide? Sort of? If that's the case, he wouldn't be allowed in Heaven. His _mami _always told him that God does not forgive his children that commit suicide, because it's not their place to take their own lives, so they won't be allowed in Heaven, and blah…blah…blah. Some stupid shit like that.

Pfft. Whatever. In the moment, Antonio would've rather have dined with the devil than stay in this nightmare, being mauled to death and ripped apart by runners that might possibly be his own relatives.

"Yo."

Antonio raised his head, and down along the cement sidewalk that led to this ginormous, single-roofed, Victorian-style house stood a tall blond kid with blue framed square glasses, jeans ripped at the knees, and a deep blue Urban Outfitters sweater. The kid didn't glance at the Spaniard at all, and instead kept his gaze locked with Lovino (who by the way didn't look too enthused to speak to the blond kid).

"You got the shit?" Blondie asked informally.

Lovino waved his hand in a _'so-so' _manner before responding with, "Eh, yeah, I got some stuff we could use."

"Bring 'er here."

It was only then that Antonio noticed the duffel bag that was slung over Lovino's shoulder, because he slid it off and tossed it at Blondie, who caught it easily. Blondie swiftly unzipped the bag, and promptly dug in. A pause, then a grin.

"Nice work, Lov. Peroxide, bandages, anesthetic…dude, we've been freaking needing this stuff from day one."

Antonio frowned, while Lovino managed a smug smirk. "As usual, bastard. You should be thanking the Lord every night for having me in your group."

The Spaniard's hand curled around Lovino's elbow, and lowly asked him, "…Where, exactly, did you find all those things?"

Shit like that was fucking hard to find. Antonio had spent countless days a couple of months past to find medicine and bandages, had searched every corpse's body for some fucking bottle, and that's how he lost his _mami. _Because she had gotten an infection from cutting her leg badly, and Antonio wasn't able to help her at all. So how in the_ hell_ was this guy able to find peroxide and anesthetics?

As if noticing the young Spaniard's suspicion, Lovino simply rolled his eyes. "Relax. I just looted a broken down pharmacy up in Anaheim. No big deal."

"You couldn't have gotten anesthetics from the front counter. You would've needed a special card to enter the back room. That's where they keep all that stuff."

"I _did_ have a card, smartass."

"How'd you get a card?"

"Why the fuck are you interrogating me? I got the fucking supplies. Let's move on, now."

Jade eyes narrowed and hardened. "You're going to goddamn tell me how you got all that, Lovino. The only way I can trust you is if I know everything that I need to know."

"You don't _need_ to know everything."

"If I'm going to be staying here, then I do need to."

"Then you can turn around and start walking."

The hand on Lovino's arm tightened, and Antonio leaned in close to whisper, "I'm the best shot in this state. If you got people you want to be kept safe, got things you want to preserve, want your _life_ to be put out of risk, then you're gonna want me here."

Fierce golden eyes flashed dangerously, and the owner of those magnificent eyes scowled darkly, but didn't say anything. The young Spaniard tilted his head, softening his voice down to a pleasant, almost enticing tone.

"So tell me, Lovino…please. How did you manage to find a card?"

Silence. There was silence for a solid moment or two. Antonio was just about to turn on his heel and walk away when Lovino finally muttered his answer.

"…My grandfather used to own that pharmacy. I…took the card from his pocket."

Almost instantly, understanding came to now wide emerald eyes, before filling up with sadness and sympathy.

"Oh," The Spaniard whispered, and released his hold on Lovino's arm. "I'm…I'm so sorry…"

Now he knew why Lovino was so defensive about telling him. Well. He feels like an asshole now. _Strike one._

Lovino simply shook his head, and his gaze glanced somewhere else, his scowl never leaving those perfect lips.

"Hey."

Both heads turned to look at the blond, who had been listening in to their conversation the whole time. Blondie stood up, his icy blue eyes sliding over to Antonio, as if finally noticing his presence.

"Who the fuck's this guy?" The blond spoke to Lovino, but his eyes never left the Spaniard.

Lovino waved his hand dismissively, heading down the sidewalk past the blond. "Oh, yeah, forgot. Antonio, Alfred. Alfred, Antonio. I'll let you two converse for a few minutes." And with that, the Italian disappeared inside the house.

"Hi," Antonio tried, and he honestly hoped he'd get along with this guy, hopefully not in the same way he tried to get along with Lovino.

Alfred looked him up and down, those blue eyes scanning him up and down. As if accepting the way Antonio looked, he stepped forward, reaching for the Spaniard's hand and muttering, "Hey, what's up, man. Glad you're gonna be joining our nice, big, happy family." The second sentence dripped with sarcasm.

Antonio shrugged. "Thanks, I guess."

"Just don't fuck things up when meeting them. They'll judge you by the way you fuckin' blink, homie." With another quick look-up-and-down, Alfred turned on his heel and gestured for Antonio to follow.

The young Spaniard swallowed hard, and meekly followed the American up the stairs of the big house.

Don't fuck it up, huh? Hah. Way easier said than done.

* * *

_A/N 1:_ 'Sup. Thanks soooo so much for the lovely reviews! owo Next chappie coming up soon!

_A/N_ 2: My version of everyone will be more than a little bit OOC (especially Toni and Lovi). I would think that a person's personality during a zombie apocalypse, lul.

_A/N 3:_ Yes, America is OOC-ish and probably will be pretty douche-ish in the future. Sowwee. ;-;

R&R~


	5. Chapter IV

_Chapter IV_

Antonio chewed his lip nervously, his hand hovering above the doorknob to the big, blue house. His fingers were millimeters away from the steel knob, so close that he would consider it an almost-touch.

He was going to open this door. He would open it, and then he would step inside. And when he did, he would hopefully not be murdered and robbed of all his supplies, not like he had much of that to start with.

He wouldn't admit that he didn't trust Lovino, because that wasn't true. Okay, it was kind of true, since looks can be very deceiving, but what's he got to lose? His fucking life?

Whatever. If he got stabbed within the next ten seconds, so fucking what? Easier for him and for the world.

The young Spaniard mentally chastised himself. _Jesus, Toni, you don't have to be so goddamn pessimistic. These people can't be that bad._

Brushing off the chance that they could be, Antonio manned up, took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped inside.

* * *

Surprisingly, Antonio wasn't shocked with immediate loud voices upon entering the house. Quite the opposite, frankly.

There was absolute silence. Not a single breeze in the house blew. The floorboards didn't creak upstairs, but they did under his feet. Sunlight poured in through the cracked windows of the wide living room, and lots of dusty particles floated throat. Dust, creaky floors...suits this creepy place.

But where did Lovino and Alfred disappear off to? They came inside, and now they're just...gone.

Feeling a bit weary, Antonio took a step back.

And he took a step back right into a firm chest.

He gasped, clearly not expecting someone behind him, much less that close to him.

The gasp seemed to trigger something from the person behind him, and Antonio felt the cool, jagged end of a knife resting lightly against his throat.

"Take one step, and I'll slit your fucking throat, you prat," An unpleasantly pleasant voice snarled in his ear. Antonio would've been slightly miffed at the insult if it wasn't for the English accent this guy had that miffed him even more.

Luckily for him, two sets of feet hurried along the floorboards from the other room, and Lovino and Alfred burst into the living room.

"Artie, what're you doing?" Alfred peeped, blue eyes wide behind his glasses.

'Artie' only tightened his grip on Antonio. "This mangy _prick_ was going to rob us! You're damn lucky I was around here to stop this cretin!"

Lovino simply rolled his eyes and sighed, as if this British bastard was nothing but a fussy three-year-old.

"Arthur," He said flatly. "It's _fine_. This guy'll be staying with us for a while."

Antonio was so very pleased and relieved that these two came to his help he could cry. He probably wouldn't make it out alive trying to talk some sense into the Englishman. Speaking of, he could almost feel the frown on the Brit's face.

"What? _Staying_ with us?" He spat. "Why the bloody hell wasn't _I _told of this in advance?!"

"Because you'd flip out and you wouldn't allow any of us to leave the house for five years," Lovino replied calmly. "You'd board us up in here 'cause you're damn paranoid like that."

A scowl slipped onto Arthur's face. "So fucking _what _if I'm paranoid? I'm keeping all you wankers alive, for Christ's sake!"

"Yeah, I'll give you that, but you go overboard way too fucking much." Lovino pursed his lips. "Just let him go, Arthur."

Antonio could feel the hesitation in Arthur's arm. The asshole was taking his damn sweet time trying to decide whether or not he should slit the Spaniard's throat. But eventually Arthur's arms fell away, mumbling something about stupid arseholes under his breath.

"Fine," He muttered as he stepped away from Antonio. The Spaniard took that opportunity to look the Englishman up and down.

Wow. Dangerous, scary-sounding, macho man Arthur looked like _that?_ Antonio actually had to use all his might not to burst out into hysterical giggles.

Arthur was short and small, with fine blond hair and sharp jade eyes. His light, creamy-white skin was mostly covered by a grey long-sleeved shirt and navy blue jeans. Everything on this guy was either small, delicate, or both, except for his tight scowl and insanely dark and thick eyebrows. He was like the blonder, smaller, British version of Lovino, the only difference being Lovino was actually hot.

...Well...Arthur...was cute. Y'know...a good-looking young guy. In a scary kind of way. But Antonio definitely preferred Lovino over this British twat.

Antonio looked up to meet cold emerald eyes, and an equally cold voice came from the owner of those eyes.

"If you do anything that puts these people's lives on the line, I won't hesitate to slice your stupid head off your shoulders."

A tingle ran down Antonio's spine. He didn't doubt Arthur. He was absolutely sure this short prick could murder him in an instance.

A nervous chuckle broke the silence, a lilting American accent following suit.

"Oh, babe, it's fine. You don't need to chop anything off of anyone."

Arthur didn't peel his eyes off Antonio's for one moment. "If I have to, I will."

Those scary green eyes felt like they were burning into his soul. Antonio looked away, fidgeting nervously where he stood.

And then, a sweeter, kinder voice laced with a Dutch accent (or was it French?) rang out, immediately lighting up the mood.

"Guys? Is everything all right down there?"

A young lady came down the stairs, blonde curls bouncing and green eyes big and bright. Her smile fell briefly once her eyes landed on Antonio. "Oh! Who is this?"

Alfred restlessly moved closer to Arthur, who didn't say anything. Lovino glanced at Antonio for a moment, before turning to the blonde lady with a smile.

"Oh, it's good that you came down, Femke. This is Antonio. 'Tonio, Femke. He'll be staying with us for a while."

Femke's smile returned, and she looked so lovely and cheerful for somebody who's going through an apocalypse. "Hi," She greeted softly.

Antonio managed a small smile back. "Hi."

Arthur's glare was back on him. He could feel it.

Lovino clapped once, a sarcastic clap. "Lovely, lovely, lovely. Oh, Femke, would you mind bringing everyone down to meet Antonio?"

"Righto, Lovi!" Femke did a sharp salute, before turning and hopping back up the stairs.

As soon as she was gone, Alfred softly piped up. "Best be careful when talking to that girl, bro."

Antonio blinked dumbly. "Eh?"

"Her brother's a bloody axe murderer," Arthur mumbled. "If you do or say something bad to her, he'll cut you up and feed you to the clickers."

The shiver-tingle was back. "Oh."

"But if you're nice to her and her brother, you should be fine." The American chirped brightly in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Femke came right back down the stairs a moment later, and trailing behind her was an exceedingly tall, stoic-faced blond, another guy with a five o'clock shadow and light, long blond hair tucked neatly into a ponytail, yet _another_ shy, young, blond college guy, and a tall, straight-faced, takes-no-shit guy holding the hand of a little girl with a purple ribbon in her hair. Both of them were blonds as well (what was it with this group and blonds?).

It seemed that all the blonds' eyes fell on Antonio at the same time, for their all widened their eyes and backed up in unison.

"Hold on, who the hell is this?" The blond guy holding the little girl's hand demanded.

"Everyone, this is Antonio. He'll be joining our group for a bit."

There were a few collective gasps from the group, and a few stunned looks as well.

"He's staying with us?" The shy blond asked quietly.

Lovino turned his stern look to the blond. "Yes," He replied firmly. "He's staying."

"No. No way." The blond holding the hand of the little girl shook his head. "He can't stay here. He needs to go."

"What? Why the hell not?" Lovino snapped. Antonio was confused. Lovino looked and sounded like he really and truly wanted Antonio to stay.

"We can hardly scrounge enough food for all of us as is," The same blond spat. "We can't be keeping another stomach fed. It's impossible."

"I agree," came the low, monotonous voice of the big, burly blond in front. "We can't be wasting our food on a stranger."

"Lovino, why did you not inform us of this ahead of time?" The blond with a ponytail asked in his silky French accent. "We could've decided long ago what we could have done as a group about this."

"I couldn't!" Lovino hissed. "You fucking bastards would've flipped your shit! We can't always be working in the future! We need to decide how things are going to go when the time comes!"

"Alright, we'll decide now what to do about this. And we all decide that he needs to get the hell out of here while he still can," The burly blond sneered, and his hand moved over to his hip, and that's when Antonio noticed the revolver poking out of his pocket.

"No!" Lovino's voice was powerful, like he was an army sergeant commanding his troops. "This is another human being we're talking about! If we kick him out, that's another innocent soul we let die! And too many people have died already."

By the end of that last sentence, Lovino's voice had dropped down to a fragment of a whisper.

Nobody spoke for the longest time.

Femke looked mildly worried. Lovino looked uncomfortable. Antonio was feeling very nervous about his life right now.

Finally, a voice.

"Fine." It was the burly blond again. The blond's dark green eyes narrowed at the Spaniard, threatening and cold. "But don't think we won't kill you if we see something's up. Be loyal to this group and we won't have any problems. Got it?"

Antonio swallowed hard, licking his lips, and he nodded quickly, since his voice betrayed him out of fear. Lovino was still glaring at the burly blond, however. His pupils were pinpoints, his mouth was firm, and he looked like he was ready to leap out and sink his teeth into the burly blond's neck.

"Good. Anyways, Antonio, this is Daan, Francis, Matthew, Vash, and Lilly. They might seem like a bunch of bastards right now, but just don't piss them off and they're the greatest people you're ever going to meet."

"Great. Thanks, Lovino," Vash mumbled, and Lilly cowered behind him slightly, her big eyes wide.

The group mumbled their _hi_s before they headed on their own way, including Alfred and Arthur, leaving Antonio stuck with Lovino in the living room.

"Ah...greatest people ever?" The Spaniard asked weakly, raising an eyebrow at Lovino.

The latter shrugged. "Sure. If it makes you feel safer in this house, feel free to think that."

Oh, that was reassuring.

Antonio sighed loudly, before plunking down onto a dusty leather chair. "Maybe I shouldn't even be here."

Lovino popped open a bottle of water, pressing it to his lips wordlessly. Antonio took that change to continue talking.

"I mean, Vash said there's too many people as is, and not enough food, so I feel like I'll just be a burden. Plus, you have a little girl here, and obviously her health is more important than anything. I just feel like you people have enough problems without me."

Lovino lowered the bottle and frowned at Antonio, who flushed with embarrassment.

"N-No offense."

"None taken...jackass."

Antonio cleared his throat nervously. "A-Anyways, I dunno, I'm still trying to make my decision on whether or not I want to stay here. I'll think about it."

Lovino's eyes widened a minuscule of an inch, but he didn't look unhappy. "Alright," He said softly. "That's your decision. But...how about this? You stay one night here, try to bond with the bastards, make amends with Eyebrows, and tomorrow, you see if you like us enough to stay. If you don't, the door'll be right there."

Antonio really, really, _really_ didn't want to leave, but he knew he should. He didn't want to put any more pressure on these people, didn't want to be a burden for these people. But maybe he could stay if he helped them out with supplies, and hunting, and shooting, and killing and whatever. Maybe then it would be okay.

"Okay," He said. "I'll do that. Be back in a few." He got up from the chair, and headed towards the stairs.

"Oh...Antonio?"

The young Spaniard paused, his hand on the railing. He turned around, a soft smile on his face. "Yes?"

Lovino had dropped the smile. His eyes flashed as they bored into Antono's. He looked dead-serious, but somehow managed to look dead-gorgeous at the same time.

"Don't go into the room at the end of the second floor hall. If you do, you'll be sorry."

The words were chilling, and they sliced through Antonio's skin like a hot knife through butter. He shivered, feeling the hairs on his arms raise in slight fear. But he nodded quickly, and hurried upstairs.

* * *

Upon entering the second floor, the sound of two people talking in the first room on the right caught Antonio's attention. The door was open, so he could easily see Matthew sitting on a chair and Francis pacing around the room, and they were conversing in French.

Politely, the Spaniard raised his hand and knocked on the door, which made the French conversation stop dead in its tracks.

Two pairs of dark sapphire eyes looked up to see him, and for a moment, Antonio swore he saw fear flicker in both pairs. The fear disappeared when they both smiled brightly at him.

Francis chirped, "Oh, Antonio, welcome! Come on in, darling! Take a seat anywhere!"

"Thanks." Antonio took the only other chair in the room, the one in the corner with a blanket over the seat.

Francis stopped pacing, and clasped his hands together. "Welcome, welcome! We are so glad you could join us, _mon cher ami!_ From the moment I saw you, I knew you were going to be a benefit to our little group!"

Antonio smiled, another nervous one, and hooked his ankles together under the chair. "Well, I am pretty good with guns. And building things. I was planning to take an engineering course in university."

"Oh, lovely! Which reminds me...we were actually planning on building an electric fence tomorrow. You know...to keep those _things_ away. We have the electric box, the wires, and everything all set up already."

Antonio's eyes sparkled, and he raised his eyebrows. "Really? Wow, I'd love to help with that."

"Arthur and Vash suggested it," Matthew added softly. "So you're going to be working with them."

That's when the Spaniard's grin fell. "...Oh."

Francis seemed to notice Antonio's uneasiness, so he smiled kindly at him. "Ah...don't worry about them, darling. They just want to keep our little family safe, you know. Because, well, Vash has his little sister, and Arthur has the useless American, so..."

Antonio thought he saw Francis' eyes flash with a certain strong emotion, like sadness or anger. The young Spaniard nodded. "I see. Ah...quick question, completely off-topic...you two wouldn't mind giving me a little back story about everyone here, would you? I was going to talk to each of them individually, try to get to know them, but I'm afraid I might say something that could be really personal and hurtful to them."

"Oh, no, of course," Matthew replied, his voice soft and sweet. Francis brightened up, and nodded enthusiastically.

"So it all started with Vash and his little sister, you see. They come from Europe. Switzerland, I believe. They have been living in the Americas for a very long time, and right before..._this_ all happened, their family was very close with Femke and Daan's."

"Probably because they speak the same language," Matthew added.

"And they were together ever since this all started. Vash and Lilly...they got separated from their blood family, so...they only have Femke and Daan left." The sadness etched into Francis' voice made Antonio want to cry.

"Femke and Francis are also very close, too," Came Matthew's soft voice again. "They knew each other way before this all happened, right?"

"Correct. I met her in a German club about five years ago, and I had tried to flirt with her like I always do with beautiful ladies, and her big brother knocked me out." A nervous giggle from Francis. "She had nursed me back to health, that sweet girl, and we had become good friends over the time period."

"And then he met Alfred and I," Matthew continued. "I had flown down to L.A. to visit my brother from Canada, since he had grown up in Cali while I had grown up in Vancouver. So I decided to stay with him for a while, catch up on things."

"Of course, little _Mathieu_ over here didn't exactly get a chance to hang out with his brother, since that silly American boy had a boyfriend he could talk to instead."

"Arthur."

Francis nodded, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. "_Ouais._ Those two are deeply in love with each other, believe it or not. They've been together for forever."

Antonio grimaced, trying to picture having a relationship with someone so crabby and scary. Ugh. "Er...what about Lovino?"

Silence.

For a good half minute.

Antonio bit his lip, and was right about to apologize for asking such a question when Matthew spoke.

"Born in Italy, moved to Anaheim about two and a half years ago with his brother and his grandpa. No parents. They had a nice home up there, happy little family and all, but..."

Matthew took a deep, shuddering breath, as if he was going to spill a huge secret.

"...He was separated from his family...because he murdered someone."

Icy cold fear paralyzed Antonio, and suddenly he found it hard to breathe.

"Tried to rob a bank. Ended up shooting the bank teller right in between the eyes."

Antonio's hand found his mouth, and goosebumps scattered across his arms and legs.

"He was on his way to jail. The officer crashed their car. Lovino got badly injured on his leg, and when he came to, the officer had turned. Had to shoot the poor man with his own gun. Didn't deserve it. Eventually, we found him, and nursed him back to health. Ever since, he was with us. We consider him our family now."

"Oh, and he had gone up to Anaheim because he had heard of...the destruction of his grandfather's pharmacy. That poor man..." Both blonds were shaking their heads sadly.

"But don't worry about Lovi anymore; he's a changed young man," Francis added softly, watching Antonio with understanding blue eyes.

Antonio nodded slowly, his gaze solely on the floor. "Okay...okay, thanks, guys. Uh...anything else I need to know?"

Matthew and Francis' smiles dropped almost simultaneously. "No," The Frenchman replied, almost a little too quickly.

"Um...are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Wh...What about the door at the end of the hallway?"

Matthew's eyes flashed. "What about it?"

"L-Lovino told me not to go in there...do you know why?"

The two French-speaking young men shared a look, before turning back to Antonio with smiles slowly slipping onto their faces. "Maybe."

"C...Can I know why?"

Matthew leaned forward in his chair. "You don't want to."

Antonio hesitated, eyebrows furrowing, but he decided he really didn't want to press on the subject. "Okay...thanks for the info, guys. I'll see you around."

And with that, Antonio got up, flashed them both a smile, and hurriedly stepped out of the room, pacing down the hall.

That was a little scary. They both looked like they knew a big secret, but Antonio didn't really want to know what.

_Gotta be a little cautious around these people, _Antonio advised mentally. _They don't look like they could be that innocent._

* * *

_A/N: _Hey. Sup. Haven't updated in a while. Long chappie, woot woot. Thanks for waiting, goiys. c:

_A/N 2: _Yep, Lovi's background was based off of Lee's background in the Walking Dead game. I tweaked it a bit so it was different so dont sue me pls.

_A/N 3: There's going to be character death in the next chapter. _Don't tell me I didn't warn you.

_A/N 4: _The last chapters have been really short and crappy, I know. I have this problem where I tend to write things out in a billion chapters, even though I know i should be squeezing some stuff together into less chapters. I promise from the next chapters on, things'll be better fo sho. :D

Also, I have finally planned out my schedule for updates! Every first week will be a oneshot about random shit, and every other week I will update this story. The time I will be updating the oneshots will be on Saturdays at around 9 PM to 3 AM. For the Feed chapters, it will either be on Saturdays at around 11 AM to 2 PM, or late night from 11 PM to 1 AM. Some updates could happen on Sundays at around 11 AM to 2 PM. This is all Central Time, peoples! I can't be too sure I'll be posting a oneshot this week because i'll be too busy frantically studying for exams the following week. ;~; (note: these are just rough estimates of posting times. some could possibly be earlier or later).

Thanks for reading!

Stay classy.


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